


Dean vs. The Two Year Old Demon

by MaraLynnCade



Series: A Rose Grows [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Fluff, M/M, good parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-23 01:02:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15594777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraLynnCade/pseuds/MaraLynnCade
Summary: I had no intention of adding another story to Sam and Dean's saga, then CatMom asked how Dean would face his next heat. That got me thinking (always dangerous). Plus I spent a long weekend with family. This is the result. I hope you enjoy it.





	Dean vs. The Two Year Old Demon

**Author's Note:**

> I had no intention of adding another story to Sam and Dean's saga, then CatMom asked how Dean would face his next heat. That got me thinking (always dangerous). Plus I spent a long weekend with family. This is the result. I hope you enjoy it.

"Me do! Me do! Ommie, no, no, no!" The little girl waved her hands around her head, shaking her curls vigorously.

"Rose, sit still!" Dean snapped, barely keeping the reins on his patience. "I have to comb your hair. We need to be dressed and ready to go in less than 30 minutes. And I still need to shower and dress."

"Me do!" The two year old insisted, clutching her hands in the riot of curls while kicking both feet against the bathroom vanity. It wasn't intentional but those feet, swung out to catch Dean where it hurt the most. He dropped back, gasping in pain, swallowing the expletives that fought to escape. Rose unaware of the damage she had done, turned belly down and scooted herself off the vanity. As soon as her bare feet hit the floor she was off, running for the doorway and the freedom beyond.

Dean made a halfhearted attempt to catch her, limping a step or two behind his fleet footed child. A shriek of delight came from the direction of the stairs. Giggles mixed with a couple of deep guffaws told him the escape had been foiled. Dean slumped against the door frame as Bobby swaggered toward him, his daughter draped over the old hunter's shoulder like the proverbial sack of potatoes. 

"You lose something?" Bobby rumbled.

"Yeah." Dean answered sourly. "She hits below the belt."

"Takes after her parents if you ask me." Bobby patted the little rump gyrating beside his head. "You and Sam've been known to fight dirty."

Dean plucked his wayward daughter off Bobby's shoulder. "We're not fighting. I'm just trying to get us both dressed." The girl's feet were swinging wildly about. Dean held her at arms' length to protect himself from further damage. "Rose, stop that! We're going to be late."

Dean returned to the bathroom, to deposit his daughter once again on the vanity top. She opened her mouth to protest but one stern look from her Omega had her choosing otherwise. She settled into a sulk, arms crossed across her chest, lower lip thrust out in a spectacular pout. Dean ignored her drama and took his advantage. Quickly he ran a brush through the soft sable locks. Heart softening, he offered, "Pigtails or braids?"

"Me wants crown."

"We don't have time for anything that fancy." Dean sighed, exasperated. 

Bobby stepped in. "How about I do the princess's hair while you get yourself ready?"

"Bobby, you spoil her. And me. Thanks. I don't want to be late for my first group session."

"I remembered." Bobby stepped up to relieve Dean of the hairbrush. "Go on. I got things under control here." He set about sectioning the girl's shoulder length tresses. Dean took a second to marvel at his surrogate father's ease coping with his two year old. And another second to admire the nimble fingers twisting the strands into French braids. "Go on, git! We got this. Don't we, darling?"

Rose nodded solemnly, giving her Ommie a sideways glance that might have been smug victory in an older child. It's only a phase, Dean reminded himself as he dashed down the hall to his own bath. A natural step towards independence, Dean told himself as he stripped off his sweats. A desirable step, like being potty trained. He jumped into the shower. Lathering up, it hit him. His baby was growing up.

He ran a soapy hand over his chest. His nipples tingled at his touch. Vividly he could remember the tug of those rosebud lips as she nursed. He let his hand wander down his flat abdomen, recalling the swell of his belly when he carried her. Up until now he'd never considered when they would have another child. Someday, he thought vaguely, someday he would carry another child for Sam. Although Sam was the Alpha, Sam had always insisted the decision was Dean's. His body, his choice. The if and the when. 

For the past two years they had religiously used birth control. Dean had chosen to go one step further and utilize heat suppressants. Sam worried about the toll the drugs would take on his body. But Sam worried about everything. Dean went with what felt right for him. Now, he thought, as he turned beneath the water spray, maybe it was time to reconsider. Sam, he knew, wanted more children. Sam would probably be thrilled to have a dozen kids. Dean snapped off the shower. He slicked the excess water from his hair and face, pushed open the door to snatch up a towel. Drying himself, Dean modified that thought. Even Sam might think twelve children was excessive. Add in the factor that Sam would be starting his final year of law school in the fall, Dean had to wonder if now was the right time to have another baby. Maybe. Maybe not.

Dean flung the wet towel over the shower door. He could clean up later. Now he hustled through his morning routine. He dressed in record time. Anxious to be on his way to the Omega Center, Dean hurried back to find Bobby and Rose. The other bath was empty. Following the voices, Dean hurried downstairs. 

Bobby was comfortably ensconced in his recliner, Rose on his lap. Together they were reading Rose's current favorite, 'The Poky Little Puppy'. Dean almost groaned, that book took forever! All that pell mell, tumble bumble business. He was debating the best way to cut it short when Bobby nudged Rose. She took the purple satin ribbon he offered and laid it across the page. Bobby shut the book and set it aside. Rose slipped off Bobby's knee and went to her Omega. 

"Unca Bobby save for me." She smiled angelically. "He promise."

"Thank you, Uncle Bobby." Dean rolled his eyes heavenward. "I don't know what I did to deserve you or how I'd manage without you but I thank Chuck that you are here."

"Go on. Off with you both." Bobby replied gruffly. "I got work to do. And so do you."

 

His first day as a duella- the first omega to be a pregnancy coach!-- was everything Dean had anticipated and more. The five newly enrolled omegas, each carrying his first child, were Dean's responsibility. He'd been trained for this. He wanted this opportunity. As he had expected the group was young, docile and obedient. They were also scared and naive, some might even say stupid. Dean hoped to change that, at least a little. No omega should be solely dependent on the goodwill of his Alpha. That's why the Center offered life skills classes. That's why the Center taught omegas about their bodies and childbirth. Knowledge was power. Dean believed in sharing the knowledge and the power. Rowena said he was meant for the job.

Dean swung into the Daycare section. He frowned, studying the group of two year olds finger painting with shaving cream on cookie sheets. Rose wasn't present. Just short of panic, the midwife in charge caught his attention. Fiona, wiped her hands as she hurried over to him.

"Don't worry. Rose is across the hall. She loves to visit the babies. Meg says she is a natural. We have a deal. If she listens and gets no time outs, she can go play with the babies the final half hour. She loves babies." Fiona grinned at him. "Sorry we were having so much fun, I lost track of time. I'll get her now."

"No, don't worry about it. I'll go. It's fine." Dean reversed his course and went to the nursery. He found Rose seated with her back to the door. Six laughing babies, all younger than nine months, were arranged in bouncy chairs around her. Dean listened as Rose finished an abbreviated version of 'Five Little Monkeys". Without pausing for more than a breath, the little girl launched into her own rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star". Meg came to join him at the door. 

"She's quite a performer. Loves to make them laugh." The nursery attendant shared with him. "She has a complete repertoire. Considering her age, she does amazingly well remembering the words and the tune. What she'd really like to do is cuddle each and every one of them. But of course, I can't allow that. It wouldn't be safe." Meg's smile grew as she watched the performance. "We have an agreement. Rose can sing or read stories and she can kiss each baby on the forehead, not the mouth. But she can not pick up or hold any baby."

With out missing a beat, Rose launched into a spirited rendition of the 'Itsy Bisty Spider' complete with dramatic finger plays. The babies were enthralled, following her movements with wide eyes, kicking their legs and waving their arms, bouncing in their chairs. It was a shame that her audience couldn't applaud. Rose merited an ovation. As she finished, Dean clapped loudly in appreciation. The noise startled three of the infants. Meg moved quickly to soothe her charges.

Rose swung around, hands on her hips. "You scared 'em." She scolded, stamping her foot to emphasize her displeasure.

"Sorry, honey. I didn't mean to scare the babies." He dropped to his knees beside his daughter. Apparently forgiving him, she flung both arms around Dean's neck and planted a big kiss on his smooth cheek. She climbed onto his lap, making herself comfortable in his arms. Dean stood easily, hitching his daughter higher so she could rest her head on his shoulder. With a wave to Meg, they left the nursery.

"I liked your songs." Dean praised, giving her a squeeze. "Maybe you could sing for Daddy and Uncle Bobby tonight."

"Na-uh. They not babies."

"Oh." Dean processed that as he carried her out of the Center. "Only babies get songs, huh? Do you like babies, Rose?"

"I loves 'em!" Rose answered earnestly, as Dean unlocked the Impala. Deep in thought he placed her in her car seat and secured the straps. Dean paused, looking at his daughter, with new eyes.

"Would you like a baby in our family, honey? A brother or a sister?" He asked, genuinely wanting her opinion.

A smile lit her face as she nodded with her whole body, "A baby! No brudder! No sisser!"

"Well that will be a neat trick if I can figure out how to do that one!" Dean laughed. "I guess it's time Ommie had a talk with Daddy, huh? Do you want bunny or pony for the ride home?"

"Mine!" Rose squealed, reaching for both stuffed toys with greedy hands. "Mine, mine, mine!"

"No argument from me." Dean tucked both of the animals into the car seat with his daughter. She had a choke hold on both. Dean closed the back door and got behind the steering wheel. Hopefully Rose would keep her hold on both of the toys. He knew from experience, that if she dropped one, or Heaven forbid, both, she would likely scream bloody murder. Life with a two year old was never boring.

 

"Five stories, two trips to the potty and at least a dozen kisses, but I think she is tucked in for the night." Sam reported as he collapsed beside Dean on the couch. "Finally."

"Sorry, I should have done bedtime." Dean offered belatedly.

"No, I don't get enough time with her. Just feeling guilty. Which is why I let her talk me into the extra stories. She's growing so fast. She's not a baby anymore."

"I've been thinking the same." Dean snuggled closer to Sam's side. His hand snuck beneath the shaggy hair to knead Sam's nape. "What's on your agenda tonight?"

"Not much. Need to review a couple chapters of corporate law. Polish up my paper on the Miranda ruling. An hour, maybe two. Why? What's up?"

"I've been thinking that maybe now is the time to have a conversation." Sam's eyebrow quirked up, Dean had his curiosity hooked. 

"Don't stop now. There's no way I can concentrate on mergers and acquisitions with that kind of lead-in. Talk to me, De." Sam encouraged.

Dean took a deep breath and took the plunge. "Rose isn't a baby anymore. That was really obvious today. That got me thinking," Dean twined his fingers in Sam's hair. "Maybe, if you agree, I mean, if you think this is the right time... Maybe we should... If you agree..."

"Dean, are you thinking it's time to have another baby?"

"Well, it wouldn't happen right away." Dean ducked his head, strangely shy with his brother and life mate. "Even if I stopped the suppressants today, Dr. C. has always said it would take 8-12 weeks for the drugs to work their way out of my system. So we would still have to use birth control. But then..." Dean gulped, stalled on the thought.

"You'd go into heat." Sam stated simply, watching Dean carefully. He didn't think it was his imagination that Dean went a shade or two paler. Sam hugged him closer. "Dean, I know that even the thought of losing control is difficult for you. You know that your next heat, whenever it comes, will be nothing like your first, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know." Dean mumbled without conviction.

"But knowing it in theory and experiencing it in reality, are two different things." Sam put into words what Dean could not say. "Dean, you know I love you, right?" He felt Dean nod against his chest. "Do you trust me?"

The words were muffled but the intent clear. "Of course!"

Sam shifted their position until he could look into Dean's eyes. "I promise you that it will be nothing like the first time. I promise you that I, and I alone, will love you. I will be the only Alpha knotting you. And together we will make a baby. Another beautiful baby to add to our family. Do you believe me, De?"

"Yes, Sammy." He whispered as he stretched up to kiss that gentle smile. "Yes, Alpha. Let's make a baby."

Sam deepened the kiss. "Soon. But it sure won't hurt to practice in the meantime."

**Author's Note:**

> 'The Poky Little Puppy' by Janette Sebring Lowry, Golden Books


End file.
